


In which Pooh is mistaken, but makes a friend anyway

by scriptrixlatinae



Category: Supernatural, Winnie-the-Pooh - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Honey, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scriptrixlatinae/pseuds/scriptrixlatinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Gabriel likes to take a walk, and sometimes even storybook characters can surprise him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Pooh is mistaken, but makes a friend anyway

**Author's Note:**

> This started with a post saying "had the weirdest dream about Pooh Bear thinking Gabriel’s wings were honey and trying to eat them." It tickled a thought in the back of my head, and this resulted. You can blame/thank threewhitedoves over on Tumblr.

Gabriel strolled through the Hundred Acre Woods, sucker in hand. Children’s books were so much simpler than the real world: brighter colors, fewer villains, a few song-and-dance routines, and let’s not forget the candy.

Seriously, Hansel and Gretel? He’d lost track of how often he’d raided the witch’s cottage after the kids left. Delicious.

And another nice thing - he could stretch his wings and get off with an “I’m secretly an alien” way easier than in the real world. Kids had all sorts of shit in their books. Made it much easier to - heh - let it all hang out.

* * *

Pooh ambled out of his home, honeypot in hand. He was out _again_ ; maybe he could borrow some from Rabbit. He just didn’t understand how it all disappeared so quickly!

He was halfway down the path when something gold caught his eyes off in the trees. There was only one thing that particular summer gold color in the entire Woods - and that meant he had to look!

Pooh stopped his cheerful whistling (if there was a honey fairy in the woods, he wanted to catch it before it ran away!) and tiptoed lightly through the brush, chasing the elusive flashes of gold.

The honey fairy had a jacket green like moss and hair like thick honey trapped in a jar and eyes like aged honey, rich and old, and his _WINGS_.

His wings had to be made of honey itself, they were so beautiful! They shone like honey in sunlight and flowed like honey on his paws and he was _certain_ that they’d taste like honey too. He just had to sneak closer and -

* * *

Gabriel flicked his wing before the bear could grab it. Seriously though, a _honey fairy?_ Man, these books…

He chuckled at the stumbling bear, knowing the apologies (and entreaties) before they made it to the stuffed toy’s mouth. “Nope, you can’t have my wings, buddy bear.” _I’m pretty sure eating the pure Grace would kill you anyway._ “But I can give you something better.”

And that was how the Hundred Acre Woods amused an archangel and gained a honey pond in the same day. Though he’d pay to see someone float Rabbit on a honeycomb boat.

Stupid hare needed a chill pill anyway.


End file.
